Who's on First
by radekris
Summary: This is a crossover between “Wing Verse” and “Incubus”. If Dean didn’t want the Trickster's help, he could see what it’d be like with his interference. Now, how to best mess up Dean Winchester’s life?
1. Chapter 1

_**Title:**_Who's on First?_Crossover of "Wing Verse" and "Incubus" _

_**Rating:**__ R _

_**Disclaimer:**__ I do not own any of these characters. Dean, Sam, and Castiel belong to Mr. Kripcke and Co. at the CW. Sasha and "Incubus" are Crimson1's beautiful creations and "Wing Verse" is all done by the fabulous SavingFaith333._

_**Pairing:**__ Dean/Cas, Sam, Dean/Sasha_

_**Author's Note:**__ This is a crossover between "Wing Verse" and "Incubus". The story opens just as the first chapter of Arc 12 in Incubus ends. There is a bunch of time manipulation but stick with me, people. It will all make sense. _

* * *

The Trickster was fuming. Not only had that ungrateful little _human_ rejected his help in the fight, he'd actually welcomed that damned, evil angel with open arms and ushered in the end of the world as the demi-god knew it. And on top of that, the sniveling monkey had tried to eject him from the premises with a snide flick of his new-found powerful fingers.

Well, that was not happening. This demi-god had not survived eons of time with dwindling worshippers and an ever shrinking power base to be oh-so-casually tossed aside when victory was within reach. No sirree. If Deano didn't want his help, he could see what it'd be like with his _interference._

Ahhhh. How to best mess up Dean Winchester's life. Well, can't do anything that might actually help that damnable demon Malak to win. Nope. That would be a bad idea of biblical proportions. The Trickster thought for all of two seconds before a wicked grin split his ordinary face. Now this would be payback. He'd have to wait until the exact right moment but…. He almost felt like cackling. This was the trick of a lifetime and one worthy of someone of his caliber. With an ever-widening grin, he snapped his fingers.

* * *

Bamf! No other word really could describe it as Castiel brought them all back to the Roadhouse to prepare for Malak's final assault. Dean, Sasha, Sam, Iain, and Sarah all blinked in confusion a bit, trying to get their bearings. Jimmy felt dazed as Castiel left his body again but none the worse for wear, taking Iain's hand in his with a smile.

Sasha and Sam held on to Dean, refusing to lose contact with him for even an instant. After the last two days of putting up with Malak and Dean fused together, they held on to the real, solid, 100% Dean for dear life. The site outside the Roadhouse was awe-inspiring. Thousands upon thousands of troops were assembled, ready to hear whatever Dean had to say, ready to do whatever he asked. Dean gripped Sam and Sasha back tightly, willing energy and strength from their connection.

After Dean greeted and talked to the assembled troops, to all the humans and angels and fae that had been gathered on the Roadhouse periphery, they stumbled inside. There hadn't been a lot of sleep for any of them in the past twenty-four hours and everyone felt punchy and exhausted. With little more than mumbled "goodnights" everyone separated and headed for the rooms that had become theirs over the past few weeks. Some rest would do them all a world of good.

Despite how tired Dean was, this next part would be the easiest thing he'd done all day. He shut their bedroom door and wrapped his arms around Sasha neck, pulling him close. Oh, to feel that real connection again, with none of Malak's disgusting taint between them. They held each other, simply breathing in the other's scent and closeness for the first time in what felt like weeks.

"I'm so epically glad you figured this one out, baby," he murmured into Sasha's neck.

Sasha groaned, taking Dean's face his hands and kissing him for all he was worth. "_There_ you are," he whispered, breath ghosting over Dean's lips. "I missed you."

"I was always here," Dean replied.

Sasha just looked at him for a moment. "But now you're all here, 100% back." He smiled and shook his head to clear any lasting images of the Dean/Malak mixture.

"And," Dean started walking back towards their bed, pulling his belt off and toeing off his shoes, "I'm all yours." He grinned and leaned back on the bed, half propped up on his forearms.

Sasha laughed and cocked his head. "I think I might actually be starving."

"Last night wasn't enough for you?" Dean smirked.

"Baby, last night wasn't anything at all," Sasha scoffed. He crawled on top of Dean, licking up his neck to whisper in his ear, "The devil's got nothing on you and I need _you_ now."

* * *

Sasha pulled himself from groggy unconsciousness. His sluggish mind registered that his arms were draped over a firm body curled tightly against his own, his breath against a warm neck. Slow as his brain felt, he snuggled closer and inhaled the scent of…Dean? The body in his arms murmured and pressed back against him, drawing a stifled groan from Sasha. Well, it wasn't like this was the first time he'd dreamt of Dean and after all, dreams could be very realistic. Right?

He pressed a kiss to the back of Dean's neck, mouthing along its length until he could bite gently on his ear. Dean murmured louder, something that sounded like _Sasha_ and wrapped a strong arm around the back of Sasha's head, pulling him into a deep kiss. Now this was a dream that a person could really get into. Dean's body arching into his, Dean's lips begging him for more, Dean's hands pulling him closer. It was just so real and immediate and it was taking Sasha's breath away. The intense connection, the love behind the passion coming from Dean would be enough to keep Sasha fed for several months. He'd never felt anything like it in first person. Closest he'd ever come to something this amazing was piggybacking on the connection outside the door of Dean and his beloved Cas.

But this was all for Sasha. In this dream, Dean was his and his alone. Marked. Sasha could feel the connection, the circuit binding them, felt like drowning in it, all this passion. He'd heard about connections like this. Knew his parents probably had this once. But something whispered in Sasha very distracted brain. Something wasn't right. This was too real. Too intense. Dean gasping out his name, begging for _harder, faster, more, Sasha_.

It felt like agony pulling back from that. There was no way this was a dream. This connection was too damn solid and severing it was sharp and painful, too real. Oh, god, it hurt to cut it off so abruptly. And there was no way in hell that Dean would really be asking for this, wanting this from _him_. Not outside of Sasha's pathetic dreams anyway.

On that cheerful thought, Sasha pulled away so hard he fell off the bed, landing with a painful thud and nearly knocking the wind out himself.

"What the hell, babe?" Dean's concerned face poked over the side of the bed. Sasha lay there panting, blinking, trying to clear his head of the sheer lust pounding in his veins. Dean's concern melted into a small smirk. "Your incubus is showing."

"What?" Sasha glanced down at himself in a panic. He still looked mostly human, just a little change in his hands and then he caught his reflection in the full-length mirror on the bathroom door. Red eyes and fangs. Jesus! He could have hurt Dean. "I'm sorry," he breathed, glancing frantically over Dean to be sure he hadn't done any damage.

"Babe." Dean grabbed his wrist. "Sasha! You're freaking me out here. You okay?"

Sasha just stared at him. Dean actually looked really worried. What the fuck was going on?

* * *

Sasha rolled over in bed, arm reaching for Dean only to meet with cold, empty space where a warm body should be. What the hell? He sat up, yawning and rubbing the last of the grogginess of sleep from his eyes. He glanced around in confusion. Where the fuck was he? This was definitely not his and Dean's room. And from the faded wallpaper on the walls and the dusty knick-knacks all over, there was no way this was the Roadhouse either. Kinda looked like Bobby's house. Hadn't Castiel bamfed them out of here last night?

He stood up, noticing that he had slept in jeans but that was definitely the least of the weird things at the moment. He threw on the first clean shirt he found and the shoes on the floor. He glanced around one last time to see if there was anything that might explain this odd situation. This was starting to really give him the creeps. Very Twilight Zone.

He went out into the hallway, hoping to find someone to explain just what the fuck he was doing here. He heard murmured voices of people talking downstairs. Cautiously, he crept down the long flight of stairs, wanting to get a look at whoever it was before they saw him. Maybe it would help clear things up. Halfway down he froze when two sets of eyes swiveled to look at him.

"You alright there, man?" Dean seemed totally relaxed, like this wasn't the wierdest fucking thing in the world. He and Sam were sitting in Bobby's living room, a mess of books open around them like they were in the middle of some massive research project for a hunt. And Dean looked…well… for lack of a better word, terrible. He looked tired, drawn, scruffy but not sexy-scruffy. More like worn-out and exhausted with no time to shave scruffy. Seriously, how long had Sasha been asleep?

He shook his head to clear it. "Man, how long was I out?" He finished walking down the stairs and into the room. He must have passed out something fierce after that last epic sexathon. How had they managed to get him to Bobby's without waking him? He walked up behind Dean and bent over him, kissing his neck. "Morning," he murmured. Better do something to fix this. Dean looked like he needed some serious TLC.

"The hell?" Dean jerked away.

Sasha blinked. What was that? Dean actually looked annoyed. Maybe he was dreaming. It was starting to feel like one of those dreams where you end up onstage in front of an audience in a play you've never heard of with no rehearsal and you don't know any of the lines. He looked around. "Where's Bobby at?" he asked, glancing back at the brothers, yawning.

Sam looked like he couldn't decide whether to puke or to hit Sasha. Dean looked slightly shocked and worried. "Come again?" Dean asked, now starting to look a little pissed as well.

Sasha sat down heavily on a chair. "Um… Bobby. This is his house. We bamfed outta here last night and..." He smiled hesitantly at their identical looks of confusion and worry. Sam still looked slightly sick. "Guys? You're freaking me out."

"What the hell are you talking about? Are you drunk or something?" Dean almost growled.

"Drunk? No!" Sasha scrubbed at his face. If this was a dream, than it was a damn realistic one. Crappy one too. "I don't understand what's going on. How'd I get here?" He looked back a Dean. "And since when do you flinch when I kiss you?"

Dean looked completely floored. "Since when do you kiss me?"

Sasha stared at him. What the fuck was going on?

* * *

"Sasha?" Dean was waiting for some sort of answer.

"Yeah," he replied finally, laying on the ground and putting his arm over his face in an effort to cover the confusion. "I'm fine. Just a really weird dream."

"Seriously musta been," Dean huffed. The covers rustled on the bed. "You comin' back up here or what?"

Sasha froze. Damn tempting offer but not a good idea at all. He needed to think, to clear his head and have a private freak out moment. "Um…think I just need a shower. Clear my head or something." He rolled over and got to his feet. He had an urge to cover up his very naked self but realized that in this bizzarro world he was now inhabiting, Dean had apparently been there, seen that. And speaking of naked…. No! He wasn't going to look. Just focus on the open bathroom door.

"Sure you're okay?" Dean asked, still sounding concerned.

Sasha waved a hand at him as he entered the bathroom. "I'm good." After closing the door to the unfamiliar bathroom and turning on the water for a shower, Sasha sagged against the sink. This was real. Really real. Dean was real, this bathroom was real, this odd, messed up version of reality was real. No way could his subconscious come up with something this tangible.

And no demon, monster or apocalyptic moment had scared him as much as this one. Because if this was real than he was either 1) crazy or 2) lost. As in Lost in Space. He snickered at that reference, his snicker threatening to become hysterical giggling. Get it together! But after all the other shit he'd been through recently…

A shower. A shower and clean clothes and breakfast and coffee and then he could find out more about where _here_ was and how to get back home to reality and out of la-la land. The water pressure in this bathroom was light years ahead of Bobby's old place and oh, but did that do wonders for his tensed up shoulders. Steam filled the bathroom as Sasha closed his eyes and just soaked in the warmth. It was clearing his head of all that _need_. He knew he'd probably have to feed sooner rather than later after this morning's wake-up.

A cold blast of air hit his legs as someone opened the shower curtain and stepped in behind him. Sasha took a deep breath and willed himself not to turn around. Two arms snaked around his waist and pulled him back against a solid body. "Figured if I left you to shower alone I was risking missing out on all the hot water," Dean snarked, soaping up Sasha's chest.

"I'm good. I...just," Sasha tried to reply but those hands. And that connection between them. This was every fantasy, wish and wet dream he'd had about Dean all rolled into one. Here he was getting the naked, willing, passionate Dean and it was all for him, all directed at him, all Sasha's and Sasha's alone. He leaned back into Dean, keeping his eyes closed and let Dean have his way. Whatever was going on here, Dean obviously cared about him. And Sasha was _hungry_. He could tell him after this, after _breakfast_, after he could think straight again. Right?

* * *

"What the hell is going on here?" Sasha demanded, standing up.

"The fuck's going on with you?" Dean fired back, tossing the book he was still holding to the floor.

"I wake up in Bobby's house and I have no idea how I got here from the Roadhouse where I was when I went to bed last night and your acting all jumpy and twitchy around me and Sam's got that kicked puppy expression..." he cut off mid-rant at their identical looks of horrified confusion. "Uh...what?" he ended lamely, sitting down again. This couldn't be good.

Dean cleared his throat and leaned his elbows on his knees, rubbing his hand over his jaw. "For starters, you haven't been to the Roadhouse because the place burned to the ground years ago. Second, you went to sleep here last night, upstairs in _your_ room. Third, bringing up Bobby like the guy didn't get torn to bits by Lucifer mere months ago would by why Sam's making with the kicked-puppy-gonna-puke look, and last but certainly not least," Dean's voice got louder and rougher, "You are apparently _insane _since you know all of this shit already!" Dean was practically growling by now. He looked absolutely furious. "You know better than to bring up Bobby like that! What's wrong with you, damn it?"

"Dean, calm down." Sam's voice was quiet but calm. He still looked a bit pale but more than anything he looked concerned. "Sasha, want to try that again?"

Sasha took a slow breath, glancing between the two brothers. Now he could feel it. Or more to the point, couldn't feel it. That last piece that had been bugging him in the back of his head. He looked at Dean. "When you said 'since when do we kiss', you meant that? We really don't...?" he trailed off miserably.

Dean shook his head, his anger fading and the worried expression returning.

"I can't feel it. Feel you. I should be able to but I don't." Sasha's bit his lip. He could feel panic building in his gut. "This isn't right. You're...we're..."

"Hey. Just start over and walk us through it." Sam was looking at him, radiating concern and encouragement and it was more than Sasha could handle. He buried his head in his hands. This was the worst dream ever.

After another slow breath, he started talking.

* * *

Breakfast was waiting, actually waiting for them when the two men finally managed to stumble down the stairs. Sam and some pretty brunette were sitting at a table with Jo eating eggs, fruit, sausage, coffee and toast. Looks like this place offered the works. Sasha could practically feel Dean start salivating at the smell of coffee and greasy food.

"Morning," Sam said. "Thought you two were never getting up." There was a grin on his face that made Sasha a bit uncomfortable. Did everyone know what just happened upstairs? Sasha's head felt like it was floating away between the endorphins still buzzing through him from all that magnificent sex and with trying to come to grips with this new reality of his. Dean looked like he just might fall over any second. Sasha bit his lip. Had he taken too much from Dean?

Dean grunted, sat, and poured a tall mug of coffee, sighing in near ecstasy as he took a long gulp. Two guys walked in and Sasha, busy piling things on his plate, didn't really notice who it was until they sat down. He looked up and right into the startlingly blue eyes of one Castiel, Angel Extraordinaire. He froze with his fork halfway to his mouth.

"Hey man, you okay?" the Castiel look-a-like asked.

Sasha blinked and purposefully put the fork into his mouth so he didn't have to answer that. His eyes widened in surprise. Castiel was eating. Eating! With relish and gusto and was that actually a donut?

"You planning on swallowing your food or just hoping it absorbs?" the skinny, good-looking guy said on his right. Sasha swallowed the lump of food in his throat.

"You two were supposed to get some sleep last night," Jo said, accusation in her voice. "Dean, you look like you going to fall over in your food and Sasha is so out of it I'd swear he was stoned." Everyone laughed and Dean smirked at her. Still laughing she asked, "Seriously, Sasha, how much did you take?" He glanced guiltily at Dean.

"Nothin' a little coffee can't cure," Dean retorted. "And we slept. Some. The Big Bad Incubus here had a crazy dream and he's been dopey every since."

Sasha chucked a piece of toast in Dean's direction, almost smiling despite the blush on his face. He couldn't help himself. After all those weeks spent with Dean and Sam trying to defeat Lucifer, propping them up as they sagged under the weight of all that horrible responsibility, Sasha dying and being dragged back to life, watching Dean from a distance as he tore himself apart looking for Castiel after that final battle, his _Cas_. After all that angst and pain and longing, here was Dean laughing, playful and wanting him, wanting _Sasha_. It was in every pore and fiber of Dean's being. Topping it off was the fact that a version of Castiel was sitting right next to Dean and that did not seem to be an issue.

Huh.

Sasha kept eating, staying quiet and listening to the chatter around him, hoping to figure things out a bit more. He noticed that Sam kept looking at him, curiosity in his expression. Not entirely sure what that was about he'd smile back at Sam and join in when he could with the breakfast banter. Apparently, Castiel was really named Jimmy and the tall, skinny kid was Iain. Sarah was the pretty brunette and obviously into Sam. Interesting. So Sam was happy and contentedly hooked up here in this lovely reality.

And Dean was Sasha's.

Still wrapping his head around that one.

There seemed to a major fight or something on the horizon but for the moment they were just eating and relaxing. Jo was still Jo and Sasha sincerely hoped that Ellen was around somewhere but was too nervous to ask. Might give himself away. That wasn't something he wanted to do just yet. Not until he knew a bit more.

"Better a' saved somethin' for us old types!" a gruff voice stated just behind Sasha and he whirled in his chair, almost sloshing his coffee in the process.

Bobby!

Bobby fucking Singer was standing in the doorway!

There was a crash and a jumble of voices and Sasha finally heard Dean calling his name. He came back to himself and realized that he was standing, staring at Bobby. There was glass on the floor where he'd dropped the coffee mug. Dean's hand was on his shoulder and everyone was looking at him with mixed expressions of confusion and concern.

"I..." he started. Clearing his throat he continued. "The dream I had, Bobby was dead, long dead and everything was so…different and…" He shook his head a bit and took a breath. "I'm fine. Sorry."

"You sure?" Dean asked, gripping his shoulder. Sasha nodded and looked around for a towel. Sarah walked up and handed him one.

"Here. I'll help," she said, smiling softly.

"Thanks. Sorry." She just smiled again.

"Explains why you looked like you'd seen a ghost," Bobby said, patting Sasha on the back as he walked past.

People went back to their food, the mess was cleaned up, and Sasha decided that for whatever it was worth, this version of events was starting to seem a bit…well…heavenly. Everyone seemed alive and well and happy, despite the upcoming battle. If he didn't know any better, he'd think he'd been whammied by a djinn. He sat back down, content for the moment to watch everyone laugh and joke. Dean reached over and laced his fingers through Sasha's. Yup. This was the life!

* * *

"When I went to bed last night, I was at the Roadhouse. I was in mine and _Dean's_ room, in _our_ bed." Sasha ignored Dean's grunt of protest. "We'd just finished tricking Malak outta Dean and.... We were exhausted and planned on sleeping but," he stopped. He couldn't look up. He could feel how still the brothers were, waiting for his explanation to continue.

"We were in our room, Sam and Sarah were in theirs, Iain and Jimmy and Jo and Ellen were all in their own rooms. Everyone was beyond tired and so glad it was finally over. Well, over for the moment anyway." He swallowed. Keep going. Nothing for it now but to finish. "Bobby was there too. Alive and well and…just Bobby. Even Wally…" He stood up abruptly, pacing around the small living room space. "I don't understand this! Any of this!"

"So…like a really vivid dream or something?" Dean started to ask.

"No! Reality. _This_ is the dream!" Sasha fired back. "And I'm not crazy! I'm not!" he added vehemently at the looks the two were giving him.

"Okay. So, in this version of reality you and Dean are…a couple. Bobby's alive," Sam's voice sounded strained. "I'm with someone named Sarah. Who are Jimmy and Iain?"

"Who's Malak?" Dean added.

Sasha sighed. "Iain's this library guy who takes care of all sorts of books on demon lore, mythology, and other stuff. He got mixed up with us when his mother got killed by a demon. Jimmy's Castiel's vessel.

"Thought his name was Ryan," Dean interjected.

Sasha brow wrinkled in confusion. "Um, you probably don't even believe in angels in this… whatever the hell this dream or reality is, but Castiel was this angel who…"

"We know _Castiel_," Dean said shortly. "We know all about the angels. Thanks."

Sam gave Dean a look. "You were saying?" he prompted.

Sasha licked his lips, appraising Dean's now sour mood. "Malak is another name for Lucifer. He was the one who…man, this gets really complicated," he said, dragging his hand through his crazy red hair.

"Just tell us," Sam insisted quietly.

"Before I met you guys, Dean had made a deal to bring Sam back from the dead. They were hunting for the demon who held his contract so he could maybe find a safe way out of it. Turns out that Malak held the damn contract and Dean managed to renegotiate. If we caught all the demons let out at the Devil's Gate, Dean walked free."

Sasha paused. He stared out the dusty window at the lot full of rusting cars. "We almost did it too. Caught and sent a hundred demons back to hell in just four months. But there was a catch. Always a fucking catch. There was one thing let out of that gate that didn't occur to anyone." He looked back at the brothers. "John Winchester. So Malak won and Dean got sent to hell. I couldn't…I just couldn't let that be the end so I made my own deal." He consciously relaxed the tension in his hands, uncurling the fists he'd made.

Sasha walked back to the chair and sat down. "Any of this ringing a bell?" he asked hopefully. Sam and Dean both shook their heads, eyes wide, waiting for him to continue. Sasha sagged a bit. "If I gave up my ability to turn someone into an incubus, gave up the idea of spending immortality with you... with _Dean_, then Dean would only be gone for seven days. I took the deal but I didn't know that hell has its own time schedule. He was there a lot longer than seven damn days and had Malak's personal attention the whole time," Sasha spat out bitterly.

Dean shifted uncomfortably on the chair in front of him and Sasha really didn't want to continue but since they needed to believe him, what other option did he have? "We got Dean back, exactly seven days later, on the stroke of midnight. But the fucker had tricked him, made him think that he hadn't gone to hell. That hell was really reality. He did that by being _us_, being me and Sam and making _us_ break Dean." Sasha swallowed. It still made him want to puke when he thought about it. He sighed again. This story sucked. "Asshole'd infected Dean or something. He wasn't himself. We didn't know how to… _I_ didn't know how to help him. But I knew he was still in there, underneath everything. I wouldn't let that go. We got him back eventually, all restored and normal but now we had an impending apocalypse on our hands. Turns out that _Dean_ was the potential Anti-Christ all the time and that Sam was suppose to be his General. There were angels and demons and fae and humans and everybody all mixed up in it. Even Dave," he said, nearly chuckling to himself at the thought.

"Uh, Dave?" Dean asked.

"Yeah, Dean met some guy named Dave who straightened him out and helped him overcome Malak. Turned out to be God. Dean preferred to think of him as Dave. Freaked him out less."

Dean's eyebrows shot up. "Oh."

"Man, this is fucking weird, talking to you guys about this like we didn't live through this whole damn thing together." Sasha scrubbed his hands over his face. He felt tired, despite having just fed last night. And thinking about that was all sorts of excruciating right now.

"You said that you guys defeated Malak, right?" Sam said, nudging the painful story along.

"Yeah, I mean, no. We tricked him. I mean… well…Dean accepted Malak but only to buy us the time we needed to get our reinforcements ready."

"Okaaaay," Dean said, reaching for the long-forgotten beer on the side table, taking a swig. "Now that I am officially confused."

* * *

Everyone seemed to have things to do after breakfast, places to be. To his relief Sasha seemed to be assigned to clean-up duty with Jo. This was something he could handle without messing anything up. Cleaning dishes and wiping up messes was easy, brainless work. And Jo always prattled on with very little prompting making this an awesome opportunity to sleuth out some facts.

"So, Jo," he started as he rinsed dishes for the dishwasher. "Sorry I didn't let Dean sleep enough. He was so tired after…" he trailed off hoping she'd fill him in.

"Course he was, idiot. I mean, letting the devil walk around wearing you while managing to keep yourself intact has gotta be exhausting!" She shook her head and let out an enormous sigh, leaning against the counter. "I am so very, very glad it was all part of the Master Plan. " She looked up at Sasha with tears in her eyes. "I actually thought we'd lost him. Mom thought it too." She sniffed and briskly wiped her eyes.

Sasha realized he'd been cleaning the same dish for awhile now. He set it down and picked up another. "I'm glad too," he said quietly. Not exactly sure what he was going to do with that confusing and out-of-context information but at least it was something. The _devil_ possessing Dean? What the fuck?

Jo threw her arms around Sasha and squeezed. "And you and Sam are okay and not evil and this is all just so much better than I thought things would be yesterday." She released him and tossed the towel at his head. "You finish up. I gotta help organize lunch for the multitudes." And off Jo pranced, leaving a very confused incubus standing by the sink, dripping water on the floor.

Okay. So what did he know? Castiel wasn't an angel but some dude named Jimmy. Bobby was alive and well. There had just been some sort of battle or something, apparently against the devil himself and Dean had been possessed. By the _devil_. He and Sam, or some version of himself and Sam, had been nearly evil too but they followed some sort of plan that seemed to have saved the day.

And he and Dean were a couple.

This was not enough freaking information to go on. There was no way that people, that _Dean,_ wouldn't figure out he was a fake. Sasha ran his fingers through his hair and took a deep breath. If there was no way to fudge his way through this, then he'd have to come clean.

Damn it!

* * *

Dean lifted the beer to his lips but apparently decided he needed something with a bit more kick. He took out the silver flask from his jacket and took a long swig. "Okay," he rasped, coughing a bit on the sharp burning liquid. "Let me get this straight. In this imaginary universe of yours," he gave a sharp look at Sam's cry of protest, "_Lucifer_ held my contract and created a hell where you and _Sam_ tortured me into breaking. I then had to chose the devil three times, which I actually fucking did, by the way. I gave up you and Sammy and Bobby and friends and family and heaven and earth as I know it, just to have the power to _save_ everyone?"

"To have the chance to, yeah," Sasha replied quietly, miserably. Dean handed him the flask and he took a long pull. "You…_he_ did it too. That last time when he chose Malak, the deal was only binding if Sam and I chose Dean back. He trusted we'd figure it out and trap Malak, choosing the real Dean instead. I still can't believe we really managed to actually trick the son of a bitch. We were all set to win, had our reinforcements and everything ready to go. All we needed was some sleep and then I ended up…here." Sasha sounded like he felt, utterly lost. "I'm telling the truth. I swear."

Sam roused himself from some deep, pensive place he'd been during Sasha's explanation. "We believe you. And we'll figure out what happened."

Dean snorted. "Sounds like a frickin' nasty ass djinn to me."

"Couldn't be," Sasha said. "Djinn can't affect an incubus." He stretched, yawning until his jaw cracked. "Man, I need a shower and something to eat." He looked over at the brothers.

"Oh," Sam said a bit startled. "Guess you probably know where everything is. Help yourself to whatever."

"Thanks." Sasha went back to the room he woke up in (he was _not_ going to call it his room), grabbed some stuff, and finally closed the bathroom door in relief. He needed a break from those curious expressions, from not being able to feel any connection to Dean, from not even feeling Sam. There was just this _emptiness_ where there should be strong bonds. He took a deep breath. There was a way through this. He'd gotten through Dean being in hell, survived Dean after hell, come back from the dead thanks to Castiel, and even overcome Malak possessing, no, _infecting_ Dean. They survived an astounding array of obstacles in the last year and this too was just another damn obstacle. Well, fuck obstacles! He was getting back to his world, his home, his _Dean_.

* * *

Sasha walked out of the kitchen heading for the main dining room. People were everywhere, hustling about their preparations for the upcoming showdown. With the devil. There was no sign of Dean in the main room, the porch, the kitchens or upstairs. Sasha could feel that he was here but not _where_ exactly. He headed back down the hall towards the library and Iain's room. Maybe Iain or Jimmy would know where Dean was at.

The door was partially open and he could hear Sam and Dean talking. Eavesdropping was so wrong but…

"Something's off, man," Sam was saying.

"I know. You only said it like ten times now," Dean retorted.

"Sam's right." So Jimmy was in the room too. Sasha held his breath to hear what Dean would say. "Sasha's different."

"Different how? Be specific. We're talking about _Sasha_, the love-of-my-freakin'-life-Sasha."

Someone shuffled his feet. Probably Jimmy. Dean could be intense when he was pissed off. "He looks different. I mean, he looks the same with the red hair and everything. Still like Sasha, mostly. Just different," Jimmy trailed off lamely.

"It's like he's a brother or something. Like a twin of Sasha. He feels…almost the same. Just off a little bit," Sam added. "And add in the weird behavior. I mean, he looked at Bobby like he hadn't known Bobby was real. And he just stared at Jimmy like he'd never seen him before."

Sasha couldn't listen to this. If Dean actually defended him… No. He needed to come clean. He didn't want Dean under false pretenses. No matter how amazing those fucking pretenses were. False was false. Sasha walked into the room.

* * *

Sasha was halfway through a sandwich when Sam dropped down into a chair next to him at the kitchen table.

"So, here's what I found so far," he started, launching into a lengthy and convoluted description of physics laws and theoretical principles that sounded to Sasha like nothing more than an episode of LOST. Or maybe Quantum Leap.

"Um, you really got all that while I was in the shower?" he asked, mouth still full of sandwich.

Sam looked up from his notes, surprised. "Yeah. Research is sort of what I do…" he trailed of as Sasha started snickering. "What?"

"Sorry. Just that I would have expected something a bit more, well, supernatural."

Dean walked in, still looking tired, rumpled and scruffy, and rolled his eyes at Sam's notes.

"You want?" Sasha held up the other half of the sandwich to Dean. Once again, Dean's eyebrows crawled up to his hairline as he shook his head. Sasha wasn't quite sure what to do with that response. He started to take another bite but didn't really feel like eating anymore. Sighing, he tossed the unfinished part onto the plate. "I take it things were different here in your version. Are we even friends?"

Dean looked surprised at that. "Yeah, 'course we are. Just not hungry is all. And you don't usually split your food with me." He joined them at the table. "You're…_Sasha_ is actually one of the few people I really trust. Kinda the best friend I have." He scratched absently at his newly-forming beard.

"Why would you think this has to have some sort of supernatural cause? I mean, you said it, a djinn could do this but not to you. You're an incubus." Sam looked like he was pouting.

Sasha almost grinned. "Awww, Sam. I wasn't doubting the logic. Just figured since all the other shit this year has been demonically related, this has to be too. It's got to be Malak somehow." Now he was sure his appetite was gone.

"Didn't you say that Malak was Lucifer?" Dean asked.

"Yeah, so?"

"Well, we kicked ol' Lucy's ass recently with the help of Cas… Castiel," he amended with some effort. "Wouldn't that mean that Malak is kinda dead?"

Sam shook his head slowly. "No, no I don't think so." He stopped and stared at his notes, lost in thought.

Dean and Sasha exchanged glances. "Okay," Dean said, "I'll bite. Why not?"

"Because there is more than one Castiel, meaning more than one of the same angel, meaning more than one of the heavenly host, which means…." Sam trailed off, leading the other two.

"That there's more than one Lucifer," Sasha gasped. "Shit!"

"Right. So. A djinn didn't do this, it's not looking like its _scientifically_ possible, and we know that there is another Lucifer who has it out for Dean, your Dean, and would probably use you as a way to get to him."

"But how the hell does this get to him?" Sasha replied. "Besides, the other times all he had to do was threaten mine or Sam's life, start killing the people Dean loves and Dean would…" Sasha stopped. "No, Dean didn't. I was dead and Dean still said no to Malak that time."

"Wait. I thought he said yes." Dean looked all sorts of confused.

"It's complicated, I know. Dean had to choose Malak three times. Number one was in hell when he chose what he thought was Sam but was Malak."

"Fucking cheater!" Dean growled.

"Duh. He's the devil," Sam replied.

Sasha continued and counted the points off on his fingers. "Two was when he chose to leave us behind, really leave and not come back. And three was when he chose Malak's power over the entire army getting annihilated and hell coming to earth. Between two and three, I got shot and died and Malak told Dean he'd bring me back if Dean said yes."

"But he said no," Sam said quietly.

"Shot and dead! How the hell does a gunshot kill you? You're a damn incubus," Dean countered.

Oh, yeah, right. Sasha had forgotten to tell them that part. "I was human at the time," he said a bit sheepishly.

"And I reply, huh?" Dean snarked back.

"Dean and I got switched. Remember my deal with Malak? Can't turn Dean into an incubus anymore?" The boys nodded. "Well, we got switched and Dean was the incubus and I was the human."

"Not much of a change for Dean," Sam quipped. A piece of unfinished sandwich smacked him on the side of the head.

Dean hadn't so much a glanced at Sam when he'd launched the reflexive sandwich missile. "Switched? That would take some serious mojo to do that. What pulled that one off?"

"The Trickster. Who else? He swapped us as a way to mess with Malak. Dean had to be human for Malak's plans to work so an incubus Dean was no good to him. Trickster figured that he was being super duper helpful. Malak gets screwed and I'm out of my deal." Sasha noticed that he definitely had both of the brothers' full attention. "What? Sandwich on my face or something?"

"Did you say the _Trickster_?" Dean's voice was quiet, menacing.

* * *


	2. Chapter 2

When Sasha pushed the door open all three men turned to him, hands caught in a cookie jar style. Iain was sitting cross-legged on the couch, looking highly uncomfortable with the whole situation, a cat curled in his lap.

"Hey," Sasha waved his hand, stopping just inside the door. "We need to talk."

Dean immediately walked towards him, apology written all over his expression. "Baby, whatever it is…"

"No." Sasha put his hands up. "I need to say this. I need to do this." And he did. Knew it in his gut but, jesus, it was hard. It felt like he was giving up everything he'd ever wanted. Dean would be furious with Sasha for tricking him. Still, it had to be done.

He took a deep breath. "I know you guys have some doubts, some questions. I want to you to know that I really am Sasha." He glanced at Dean and that was enough to keep Dean silent, to stop his protest. "I _am_ Sasha Kelly but I'm not _your _Sasha Kelly."

Dean's expression froze. "Excuse me?"

"I'm just _me_ and I have no idea how I got here. I mean, my world was…was really, really different yesterday." Sasha leaned back against the door for support. "The main thing is that you guys have this major battle hanging over your heads. This is not the time for distractions. I already sorta helped defeat Lucifer once so I figure…Lucifer, Malak, what's the damn difference in the end." He turned to Dean. "I can help. And I promise I'll explain everything but right now all you need to know that I really am Sasha but I'm not the Sasha you want. After we kick this Malak's ass, I promise, I _promise_, I'll help you get your Sasha back." He looked down because he couldn't stand to see the disappointment or worse, disgust, in Dean's eyes. "I didn't know what the hell was going on this morning. Kinda thought I was dreaming."

"You were wide awake," Dean said quietly, voice controlled and tight.

"Dean, he's telling the truth," Sam interjected. "He really is Sasha Kelly and he really is on our side."

Sasha looked up at Sam. "How would you know that? And how did you know that I was _off _or whatever?"

Sam looked puzzled. "I've been able to sense you for months now." At Sasha's blank look he continued. "You know, with my powers?"

Sasha chuckled bitterly. "Clearly we are from different worlds. The Sam I know doesn't have any powers. Any ones that he did mess around with came courtesy of Lucifer and fucked him up somethin' fierce."

"I agree with Sasha." Everyone looked at Jimmy. He cleared his throat. "I mean, I agree that we should focus on the upcoming battle with Malak. There's still a lot to do and Sasha is clearly going to help us. This explanation can wait…maybe…right?"

"Punch me or whatever you need to do and then go lead your troops. I'll back you however you want," Sasha said. Amazing how tired telling the truth could make a person. "For what it's worth, I never meant to lie to you." Dean was still holding himself very still, too controlled to be anything other than furious.

Dean just walked past him, addressing the others. "We need to gather the group. It almost time." Sasha closed his eyes, defeated. Dean stopped abruptly, his back facing Sasha. "First we kill Malak and send his evil little army back to hell. Then you get me back my incubus," he nearly snarled.

* * *

"Why? You know the guy?" Sasha asked.

Sam snorted. "Yeah, we know him."

"Came across the fucker twice now and he played us both times," Dean added, anger clouding his expression.

"At least you didn't have to live through that last one," Sam replied, a look of anger on his face. His expression froze as he realized what he'd just said.

Dean smiled softly. "Yeah, sorry about that one, Sam." He took another swig from his flask. "So, about this Trickster asshole?"

Clearly there was a lot of history between the Winchesters and the Trickster. Sasha glanced back and forth between the brothers and realized that an explanation was not forthcoming. Shrugging, he continued. "Well, uh, he just showed up at the Roadhouse when we were looking for Solrin. Except we didn't know the guy's name yet. Solrin, I mean, not the Trickster." Sasha could see that this was making no sense. He sighed. "This is another one of those really complicated parts."

"Well, dumb it down so our tiny brains can manage," Dean retorted.

"Dean," Sam chastised.

"Solrin is another kid who has abilities. He sees demons, sees the supernatural, and can call them at will. And he is one messed up dude. He actually thought that Malak was like the second coming of Christ and was willing to do anything to help him return. But Solrin carried a _serious_ torch for Dean." He snorted at the thought. "He actually bowed down at Dean's feet at one point."

"Oookay," Dean said, eyebrows climbing into his hairline. Sam's face screwed up, a mixture of laughing his ass off and getting nauseous.

"We were looking for Solrin because we knew we had to keep him on our side. The angels told us we needed him so…" he trailed off. "Then the Trickster showed up 'cause this dude's hot on his trail and it's not fun and games anymore for the poor little demi-god. He got Dean to agree that we'd distract the kid so he could get away if he promised not to kill humans anymore. I couldn't believe Dean actually agreed but, I guess…I guess it was a good deal in the end. It made the Trickster actually want to help us win."

"And that was it?" Sam looked intense, focused.

"What're you thinkin'? What's going on in that Sasquatch head of yours?" Dean glanced at him, a little wary.

"What if this isn't Malak? You being here, I mean." He looked at Sasha, excitement in his eyes. "What if this is _all_ the Trickster? Yeah. This is totally something he would think was funny!"

Dean and Sasha exchanged looks. "What do you mean, me being here?" Sasha responded.

"That physics stuff I was talking about. Don't you see?" Sam grabbed the notes off the table and held them up. "The Trickster switched you or something. Took our Sasha and put you here instead."

Sasha was appalled at the idea. "You mean that somewhere out there Dean is wondering where the hell I am?"

"Yeah and probably trying to figure out why our Sasha isn't you. The Trickster would totally switch Sashas for a laugh."

This was horrible! This was the absolute worst fucking thing possible! Dean was due to go up against Malak at any moment, might already be in the battle of his life and Sasha was stuck _here_! He stood up. "I gotta get back! I gotta get home like _NOW_!" He was frantic. Dean did not need this, _his_ Dean. He needed Sasha and Sam and everyone at his side, fighting the good fight.

"Woah, dude. We'll figure this out," Dean replied, trying to calm him down.

"Don't you get it? You guys already won _your_ battle. Dean is gonna be fighting Malak any moment now, might already be fighting and I'm. Not. There!" Sasha felt like was going to fly apart with panic. "He needs me there. I need to be at his side, helping. The plan was already worked out and I have to help lead the fae and…" A horrible, terrible thought occurred to him. Blood draining from his face, he sat down slowly. "Oh, god."

"What?" Dean asked. "Dude, you don't look so good."

"What if…what if Dean…" Sasha couldn't even say it. "I need to be there." Wordlessly Dean handed him the flask. Sasha took another long pull, emptying it. He felt sick and dizzy with anxiety and helplessness.

"We'll figure this out. I promise you. We'll summon the Trickster and get you back." Sam was already digging through another stack of books while he talked.

Sasha buried his head in his hands. "I gotta get home."

* * *

Everyone was assembled. Well, everyone meaning the core group, those closest to Dean and therefore most trusted. They all crammed into the kitchen for one last meeting before the final showdown. The majority of the human troops occupied the rest of the Roadhouse, eating, cleaning weapons and even napping if they could find space. But Jimmy, Iain, Sarah, Ellen, Jo, Bobby, Dean, Sam, Sasha, Ula, and even Wally managed to fit into the kitchen, claiming it for their own.

"We got a problem," Dean stated flat out. He pointed at Sasha, "This isn't Sasha. I mean it is, but not our Sasha."

There was a collective muttering, comments and questions flying back and forth as Dean raised his hands. Sasha just stared at the floor. He could feel the tension in the air, the shift from _battle-ready_ focus to _Sasha_ focus. The volume rose as the confusion did, Jimmy and Sam trying to reassure everyone over the non-stop questions.

Dean's voice cut through the noise. "We don't understand it but we have to deal with it. There's no time to play Columbo right now." Dean took a deep breath and continued. "Sam and Jimmy both say that this is really Sasha Kelly and that he sincerely intends to help us." Dean turned to Sasha, crossing his arms over his chest. "You think you can lead the fae, the ones that fly? Can you follow our plan?"

Sasha finally lifted his head. He smiled sadly. "Dean, I can't explain why I'm here right now but I do know that in any version of any dream or reality or universe, I'll help you. I'd follow you to hell and back and I'll do whatever you ask me to do." The room was quiet as Sasha finished speaking.

Dean looked a little stunned. "O..okay then." His voice stumbled a bit and he cleared his throat. "Right. So, let's fill him in." He glanced at Sasha again, expression a mixture of confusion, anger, worry, and concern.

Sam took the lead, going over everything one last time, stressing the part that Sasha would play in the battle. Sasha chewed on his lip absently while he focused on memorizing what he would need to know for this to work. And it really could work. Except they were missing one key person…well, _being_. While the part the angels would play was all laid out, one main angel leading them seemed to be missing.

Dean turned to Jimmy and asked, "You ready?" Jimmy nodded and shut his eyes, taking a deep breath. There was a bright, almost blinding light and Sasha's entire body hummed with a vibration too fast and high pitch to hear audibly. Then Jimmy opened his eyes. And _Castiel_ looked directly at Sasha.

"You, incubus, are not where you are supposed to be," he said, tilting his head.

* * *

Sam was once again buried in his research, looking through a variety of old books of Bobby's, hunting for any information on how to summon the Trickster. Sasha was supposed to be helping but his mind was all over the place. He couldn't focus at all, especially not on dry, dusty books. His knee kept jiggling with nervous energy. He realized he'd re-read the same page three times and he still had no idea what it said. He slammed the book shut with an exhalation of irritation. Sam jumped, startled.

"Sorry. Just need some air," Sasha apologized and headed out the front door. All this nervous energy had him wanting to climb out of his skin. He paced through the scrap yard, no plan in mind, just the need to move, to _do_ something. The air was still cold but tolerable without a coat. There wasn't even any snow left on the ground. But there was a lot of mud. Sasha squelched through it at a dizzying pace. He stopped in front of a twisted, rusty car skeleton and punched the thing repeatedly until the noise in his head began to quiet.

"Think its dead," Dean stated behind him.

Sasha smiled softly before turning around. "Thanks for the tip."

Dean regarded him carefully, expression guarded but bordering on amused. "No problem. And, uh, should you really be hanging out here? There's a lot of iron in the yard."

Sasha ran his hands through his hair. "Yeah, yeah, I know."

"Come on then. Let's head back towards the house and I'll introduce you to my good friend Jack. He always helps with whatever ails ya." Dean tossed a friendly arm around the incubus and guided him with a sure hand out of the scrap yard. A brown bag of groceries was sitting forlornly on the top porch step. Dean dropped down next to it, pulled out a bottle of Jack Daniels and twisted off the top, handing it to Sasha with a proud flourish. "Sasha, meet Jack. Jack, meet Sasha."

"And this doesn't scream _alcoholic_. Nope. Not one bit," Sasha snarked before taking a swig and handing the bottle back to Dean.

"Pull up a seat," he said, patting a spot on the top step next to him. Sasha accepted the offer with a sigh. They sat in silence for awhile, companionably passing the bottle between them. They watched the shadows gather in the scrap yard, watched the sun sink lower in the sky.

"So…um, you and me, huh? Or at least you and _a Dean_?"

"Yup."

"Huh."

"Yup."

Dean chuckled softly. "And here I was thinking that I was all manly and straight as an arrow. My bad."

"Sorry to burst your machismo bubble," Sasha grinned, taking another swallow of Jack. "Don't worry. My Dean's not into guys. Total skirt chaser."

Dean looked askance at that. "Uh, dude. What?"

Sasha laughed. Damn. That was an actual laugh. Maybe it was the booze. Or maybe it was just hanging out with Dean. Amazing how Dean still felt like Dean in any variation. "He's only into _me_. I mean, as far as guys are concerned. Woulda been a lot easier if I'd just been a female incubus…succubus…whatever."

Dean nodded taking his own pull off the bottle, the nearly empty bottle. He cleared his throat, staring intently at the view in front of them. "I…uh…I know what that feels like. I've been a total T&A man myself." He stopped and rubbed his hand across his face, scratching at the growth on his chin that was fast becoming an actual beard. "I was surprised as anyone when I fell in love with him."

Sasha's insides froze at the words. Logically, this was not _his_ Dean and therefore he had every right to be in love whomever he wanted. But damn, that hurt to think of Dean loving anyone other than him. He looked over at Dean as casually as he could manage. "In love with who?"

Dean drained the last of the bottle and stared down into it. "Cas."

Sasha's brow wrinkled with confusion and then cleared as he got it. "Oh, Castiel. That's why you got all touchy about the angels."

Dean eyes narrowed. "Yup."

"Huh. An angel."

"Yup."

"One place you love a half-demon, another, an angel. Gotta be some sort of a cosmic joke."

"Yup."

They sat there for awhile in silence. The sun finally set and the air got decidedly colder. South Dakota was too far north for it to really be spring yet. Sasha shifted uncomfortably, not really wanting to know the answer but realizing that he needed to understand. He inhaled sharply, finding the nerve to ask. "So what happened?"

* * *

"You know about this, Cas?" Dean asked.

Sasha couldn't look away from that intense angelic gaze. Even _he_ couldn't outdo those brilliant baby blues, all that glory shining through them. "What's going on? What am I doing here?" he practically whispered. Castiel broke his gaze on Sasha and glanced at Dean. Then he glanced up towards the ceiling. Sasha was familiar with that expression. Ol' Cas was communicating with heaven.

"Your universe and this one are not the same. Someone has taken you from yours and placed you here."

"So where's the real Sasha?" Dean's question exploded from him. He winced at his choice of words. "I mean, where's _my _Sasha?" he continued, tossing an apologetic look at Sasha.

Castiel tilted his head in Dean's direction. "Presumably in this Sasha's universe. They have most likely been switched."

"Switched?!" came a chorus of voices as everyone reacted to that statement.

"Who the hell could do that? And why?" Sam demanded.

"God has the power to do something like this. But my Father did not. There is only one other being capable of this power. Ananzi."

"Who?" Dean asked, eyebrows raised.

"The Trickster, Dean," Sam said. "The damn Trickster up to his helpful little schemes again," he added, scorn in every word.

"Helpful? How is this _helpful_?" Dean asked, incredulous.

"I second that," Sasha chimed in.

"I only meant that the last time he switched something he was doing it to be clever and helpful," Sam replied with a small eye roll.

"He thought so," muttered Dean. "Got Sasha shot."

"And that would be a problem because…?" Sasha couldn't help but ask. It's not like getting shot could really kill him or anything.

Dean huffed out an exasperated breath. "He switched us, me and Sasha. Turned him into the human and me into the incubus. Sasha got shot and died."

Sasha just blinked at that. Shot and died? So how was Sasha, the other Sasha, still around, alive and kicking?

"You must be returned to your universe and that Sasha must be restored to this one." Castiel said it so matter of fact that, for a moment, Sasha thought he was going to do the honors himself and swap them immediately.

"And I second _that_, but you said it yourself that this has to be done by the Trickster or by Dave. And I kinda think that Dave might just a bit busy at the moment," Dean interjected.

Okay. This Trickster and being human and dying and who the hell was _Dave_? This had all gotten utterly confusing.

"Um, not that I'm not fucking thrilled at the idea of everything being put right, but don't we have an impending apocalypse to deal with?" Iain piped up from the corner. "Just saying."

"Hey! We get Sasha back and we can launch this fight right away," Dean countered.

"So you don't think _this_ Sasha can do it?" Iain retorted.

"Guys, come on. This is not exactly constructive," Sam said, annoyed at the growing argument.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Would you like to discover the wrong _Sarah_ in your bed? A Sarah you were counting on to pull off a fairly complex part of this fight with the freakin' devil?!" Dean was angry. Sam was angry. Jo and Ellen and Bobby all looked fairly angry. Even the beautiful, sweet Sarah looked annoyed. And Iain looked happy. Wait. Happy?

"What about this is making you _smile_?" Sasha asked, looking at the tall, skinny book-geek named Iain.

"Sasha, Sasha, Sasha. Just trying to make a point with old Deano here." That shut everyone up. Deano? Still grinning, Iain's features morphed and he changed into a short, non-descript man of indiscriminate age. "Don't fret, boys. Iain's safely sound asleep elsewhere."

Castiel placed himself directly between Dean and Iain. "You will return these worlds to normal. You will maintain the balance."

"Cas, baby, lighten up. Maintain the balance? I haven't disturbed it. Both of them are Sasha Kelly and both of them are incubi and both of them know how to hunt. It's a fair trade." Dean sounded like he was choking at that last comment. So this was the Trickster. Sure as hell didn't look like much. Needed to lay off the sweets and carbs a bit. "Your concern for your charge is very sweet, little angel."

The air around Castiel shifted and he looked positively dangerous.

* * *

"I loved him, he loved me. Heaven took him back afterwards."

Sasha rolled his eyes. Yeah. This definitely was Dean. Monosyllabic, closed off, uninvolved Dean who would never talk about anything real unless you pried it out of him. Good thing he had Mr. Jack Daniels to help the conversation. "That's it?"

Dean seemed to sag under the weight of whatever had really happened. "Yes. And obviously, no. He was…we were… _are _perfect together. Most of the time. The past year has been the scariest, happiest, most painful, gut-wrenching, mind-blowing, most fantastic time of my life." Dean fidgeted with the ring on his fore-finger. "I was complete with Cas," he added, so softly that Sasha almost didn't catch it.

Sasha was still trying to wrap his head around the mental image of Dean and Castiel. "So, he had to go back to heaven? After you guys defeated Lucifer?"

Dean nodded miserably. "I'll keep looking. I'm not giving up on finding a way for him to come back. That's what I keep telling him anyway."

Sasha wasn't sure if the _him_ Dean was referring to was Sam or Castiel… Cas. He decided it was best not to pry into that. Dean looked miserable enough as it was.

And speaking of Sam…. The front door creaked open and was filled with Sam's gigantic frame. "What the hell are you guys sitting out here for? It's freezing."

Dean wiped at his face, brushing off a few stray tears and tucked the empty bottle into the grocery bag. Sam frowned at that, disapproval at Dean's choice of self-medication practically radiating off of him. Dean just shot him a look and shouldered his way into the house.

Sasha followed a bit slower, catching Sam's eye. "The search for Cas not going well, huh?" he asked quietly.

Sam's shoulders twitched like a horse twitched off a pesky fly. "No. We need to talk."

Sasha nodded and followed Sam into the living room. Papers and books covered practically every available space. Pushing aside a few heavy tomes, Sasha sat on a corner of the couch. "So, you've really been at this all day?"

Sam sighed. "Yeah. And it would have been faster if I'd had some _help_."

Sasha winced. "Sorry about that. I wasn't really being helpful anyway. It's still all freaking me out and I can't seem to focus on anything useful."

Dean walked in carrying another bottle, smelled to Sasha like bourbon or possibly rum. Sam took a long look at Dean, disappointment all over his features.

"What?" Dean snapped, picking up a document he'd being reading that morning.

"Are you planning on eating something of substance tonight or just drinking your _vitamins_ again?" Sam asked.

Dean sat back in the chair, planting his feet on top of Sam's research and took another drink. "I'm good here, Sammy, but thanks so much for asking."

"Dean, you can't…"

"Said I'm _fine_, Sam." Dean's tone brooked no discussion.

It hurt Sasha to see Dean like that, so lost and angry and hopeless. He hadn't seen the brothers this disconnected from each other in a long time. The whole thing felt so wrong. So _off_. Speaking of things being off, time to find out what Sam had discovered and get Sasha's ass back where he belonged. "So, anything in all of this to help me get home?" he ventured.

Sam and Dean glared at each other for another beat before looking at Sasha. "That's what I wanted to talk to you about," Sam began. "There isn't a way to summon the Trickster. At least not for us."

"What does that mean, _not for us_?" Sasha thought that sounded vaguely ominous.

Sam referred to his notes. "We can't summon a demi-god but the Most High can."

"Most High?" Dean scoffed. "As in God Almighty Himself? 'Cause yeah, that's gonna happen."

"Jesus, Dean. I know you have a bone to pick with Him about Castiel but now is _not_ the time."

"Not the _time_? It's never the time, Sam! You always…"

"Dean! Can we not _do_ this again…"

"Hey. Guys. Come on. Apocalypse approaching, remember?" Sasha interrupted. "Getting me home again ringing any bells?"

Sam huffed as he grabbed the bottle from the table by Dean. "Fine. We'll keep looking. But Dean lays off the booze for the rest of the night."

Dean just stared at Sam. "Do you really think promising him anything is the smart move here?"

"What?"

Dean dragged his hands over his face and regarded both Sasha and Sam. "Seriously. We can't summon the Trickster ourselves and if God's not getting involved with helping me find Cas..." his voice broke and he looked at the floor. He cleared his throat to continue. "If we can't even find an angel that's _supposed_ to be here, how the hell do you justify promising this guy anything about helping him get home?"

"He can't," said the newcomer, leaning casually in the doorway eating a candy bar.

* * *

"You _will_ change them back. You will not play any more games with them." Castiel's voice rumbled with tightly leashed fury.

The Trickster regarded the angel for a moment, expression still amused. As he turned to Dean, his expression changed. "Just a little lesson for you, Deano."

"Yeah," Dean growled. "And what _lesson_ is that again?"

The Trickster regarded him coldly. "You assume that you can just order me around, demand my help and then toss me out when you change your plan. Not the case, buddy." He walked steadily towards Dean who held his ground, not backing up an inch. "I play tricks on those who deserve it but I never lie. You may be the Messiah but you're still. Just. Human."

"And you're the big shot demi-god, that it?"

"Yeah, I am." He disappeared abruptly, reappearing seated comfortably on top of the kitchen table. "Got the powers to prove it too. You need to remember that. You and your angel friend. I've done far worse things to humans who've shown more respect than you have. I only set up this switch-a-roo to prove my point." As he hopped off the table, people moved back to give him some space, not wanting to get in the demi-god's way. He smirked. "Don't worry. Your little incubus is safe and sound. The other Dean and Sam are taking real, _good_ care of him."

The Trickster kept walking towards the door. Nearly everyone's eyes were on him. Sasha wasn't sure what he should do now. Dean was shaking with rage and Sam didn't look much better off. Castiel seemed marginally calmer but since he wasn't lifting a finger to stop the Trickster from leaving, Sasha took a step towards the demi-god. The Trickster paused in the doorway, glancing back at Sasha. "Don't worry so much, pal. I'll get you home and you won't even remember any of this happening."

"What?" Nice comeback.

"You won't remember this because it will never have happened."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Dean looked positively scary right now.

"Dean, if only you could grasp the scope of what I really am. I've played pranks in so many variations of this reality…"

"Yeah, fun times. You were saying something about switching Sasha back?"

"And this needs to happen, like, _now_," Sam said, glaring at the Trickster. "We're running out of time and you have a part to play in this battle, remember?"

The Trickster threw up his hands. "Fine. Don't have a sense of humor about it." He turned and pointed a finger at Dean. "Just don't forget your place. Or next time I'll make a switch a bit more… permanent."

"Then do it, Ananzi, and be done with your tricks. There is far too much at stake." Castiel stepped forward, once again taking command of the situation. "The Most High orders it so."

The Trickster actually blanched at that statement. The Most High? What the hell was Castiel talking about? But the demi-god simply nodded, then snapped his finger and disappeared.

* * *

"You!" Sasha growled as he launched himself at the Trickster. But there was nothing to catch. The Trickster reappeared sitting where Sasha had been moments before.

"Ah ah ah. Careful," he said calmly as he popped the last of the candy into his mouth.

"You did this. Fix it," Sasha demanded.

"Already planning on it." He turned to the Winchesters. "Nice to see you fellas again. How's the search for your angel going?" Dean glowered. "That bad, huh? Oh well. Guess you can't win 'em all, kid."

"Hey, fixing this? Remember?" Sasha snapped irritably. Asshole needed to lay off teasing Dean.

"Wow. Tough crowd," the Trickster said. "So. I'm here to fetch Sasha. Apparently you've got a big part to play in the upcoming apocalypse."

"I know that. Get me home so I don't miss it," Sasha growled, his incubus starting to show as his voice lowered. "If anything happens to Dean, to _any_ of them…"

"Nothing's gonna happen to Dean," the Trickster rolled his eyes. "Especially not with that furious little angel perched on his shoulder." Dean's entire body froze at those words.

"So why'd you do it?" Sam asked, taking the focus off Castiel's absence. "What the hell does this swap accomplish?"

"Had to teach Deano a lesson in knowing his place in the grand scheme of things. Well, not _you,_ Dean. The other Dean. Got a pretty big head over that whole Messiah walking around with Malak's powers thing."

"He did not," Sasha snapped. "He hates the attention and the burden."

"Yeah, yeah. He's convinced he'll screw it all up. I know." The Trickster waved his hand dismissively. "Not a bad trick he just pulled though, fooling Malak. Have to hand that one to him." All three boys were still glaring at the Trickster. "Fine. Whatever. Let's get this switch over with."

"Hey," Sam started. "How'd you do this? I mean, how'd you get the Trickster _here_ to let you pull this off?"

"What Trickster?"

"The other version of you. Like two Lucifers, two Deans, two Sashas…"

"Buddy, there is no _other_ me. Gods don't have duplicates."

"Convenient," Dean muttered. "You like to screw me over in two dimensions."

"Deano, you are fun to play with in _any_ dimension." The Trickster's grin widened at seeing Dean's obvious annoyance. "Well, there's no time like the present. Let's get a move on, my incubus friend."

Sasha looked at Dean and Sam. "Uh, thanks, guys. I…" he stopped, having no idea what to actually say.

Dean suddenly stood up and grasped Sasha's hand. "Nice to meet you, other Sasha Kelly. Go kick Lucifer's ass and make your Dean happy."

Sasha nodded, smiling softly. "Maybe I could say something to Castiel?" Dean flinched at the name. "I mean, see if he can do anything to help."

Dean closed his eyes for a second, then opened them again. Sasha had no idea what that shuttered expression of his masked. "That'd be great, thanks."

"Sorry to break it to you but none of you are going to remember this little joke." The Trickster chuckled to himself as the boys just stared at him. "Okay, kids. Gotta get a move on. The Most High has decreed that I get your pretty little ass back where you're needed." The Trickster placed a hand on Sasha's shoulder. "And I'll see you around, boys."

"I hope to fucking Christ not," Dean grumbled as he let go of Sasha's hand and sat back down.

"We'll see." The Trickster's grin nearly outdid the Cheshire Cat's and he snapped his fingers.

* * *

Bamf! No other word really could describe it as Castiel brought them all back to the Roadhouse to prepare for Malak's final assault. Dean, Sasha, Sam, Iain, and Sarah all blinked in confusion a bit, trying to get their bearings. Jimmy felt dazed as Castiel left his body again but none the worse for wear, taking Iain's hand in his with a smile.

Sasha and Sam held on to Dean, refusing to lose contact with him for even an instant. After the last two days of putting up with Malak and Dean fused together, they held on to the real, solid, 100% Dean for dear life. The site outside the Roadhouse was awe-inspiring. Thousands upon thousands of troops were assembled, ready to hear whatever Dean had to say, ready to do whatever he asked. Dean gripped Sam and Sasha back tightly, willing energy and strength from their connection.

After Dean greeted and talked to the assembled troops, to all the humans and angels and fae that had been gathered there, they stumbled towards the Roadhouse, intent on getting some much needed rest before launching the final battle in twenty-four hours. There hadn't been a lot of sleep for any of them in and everyone felt punchy and exhausted. Some real rest would do them all a world of good.

Dean reached for the front door and the entire world shifted.

**--fin**


End file.
